Pitiful Sirs,
We, the undersigned victims of unfeeling, heartless barbarity, entreat you of your pitifulness to “lend an ear,” as the poet saith: alack! we would not have you give it, knowing the treatment our own are subject to. Our owners, or guardians, we know not which they be, declare that they love us, but ah! it must be as Isaak Walton loved the frog, for the essence of their love is cruelty. In proof of this love they do daily bear us about by our ears, kind sirs; mine tingle even to think of it, they do put us down, do catch us up again, do whirl us round, and do howl into our ears words of affection and endearment, the very recollection whereof maketh us to shudder:
“Oh ye whose hearts have nerves,
“Oh ye whose eyes have tears,
“It is not your love you are wearing out,
“But living victim’s ears!”
So, an earnest2 Adieu,
from your heart-wrung victims,
The Loved and Tortured.